Assumption pt2
by fl0aty
Summary: this continues where the previous left off in the colourful retelling of Walter Sullivan's life. Herein we meet victims 2 & 3...


The next few hours were spent in denial, rationalization. Well, of course, you know..he'd been panicked, was what it was! The pyramid hood... except of course James had taken it off before he'd shot him ishothim,backofthehead, incoldblood, yousawit,thebrainmattergushingout/i still, it had been an act of spontaneity, surely, right? Fear. iwhich is why you still have his heart, played with his blood.../i He had no way of knowing that the demon was messing with him, trying to make him feel the thing had been entirely his idea, his doing. No idea this mad state of fear and misery was as much food to the beast as the killing had been. iThey're going to find you...going to catch you.No way you can get away with this...you'll be locked up, & away with the key, never be free, never be free again../i Walter staggered back to his former nest in the train station and he huddled there, sleeplessly. Sure any minute now someone would come and root him out, hurt him, catch him, punish him. Startling at every sound, every shadow. except...it never happened, did it? The next day saw everything back to normal. After a time he got brave enough to creep out and sit in his customary spot near the stairs...other than a few new stains on his already filthy coat, and a isecret,i'vegotasecret/i heart hidden in among his things down the tunnel, there was no sign anything had changed. No one noticed him, as usual. He was a homeless man, after all. Hundreds of eyes saw him, shifted past him everyday. It was the perfect disguise, really. an ability to be invisible in broad daylight.  
the next night saw him out again, prowling. He didn't want to think of it that way; he certainly didn't plan on anything wrong. But he felt stoked, and it was clear why; someone had lost a little packet of the white drug near him. Intentionally or accidentally? he hadn't known. all he knew was no matter how weird this stuff had made him feel before he felt drawn to pick it up, drawn to pocket it.  
Drawn to snort it later when he woke with this compulsion to go out. The claudia in his veins felt like tigers and knives; he felt 50 feet tall and incapable of feeling pain. No one and nothing could stop him, and why should it? It felt nice to be out in the night air. Right, in some ways.  
he headed down to the old school. He hadn't been here since the time he had gone to classes here; hadn't returned since the orphanage had pulled him away from it. It seemed nice to sit out by the running track and just rest against the wall of the building; the heat of the day was still in the bricks somehow and he rested his face against their warm hard surface, liking the tactile sensation. In the grass he found something, and he picked it up. What was this? It was a tool of some sort, possibly, or somebody's little shop project; two smoothed pieces of wood. they fit in his hand as tho born to be there. suspended between, threaded thru holes in the wood was a long thin wire; probably an old guitar string. Why was this here, and why, now that he had it, did it feel so right in his hands, so destined to be his? Walter pocketed it, slipping it in one of the pockets of his shabby blue trenchcoat. Movement, sound. these had his attention now. He was not the only one out by the track. a few students were out there, boxes of beer in hand. they were talking, joking, looking for a place to get drunk. Walter found himself following them. Bobby, Sein and Jasper were buds. They bonded over drinking, dirty jokes...they also had an interest in the occult. They knew, as many people did, that there were local legends about a cult in this area, about a bloody history to this town and the one nearby. This wasn't as interesting to them tho as the age old teenage obsession about the devil.  
They were heading past the high school, towards the Pleasant River University campus. there was a nice niche in the old woods by the dorms there that Jasper was sure would be a fine old place for raisin' the devil.

After a few beers, the boys were ready for their impromptu little ritual.  
"you got the candles?" Bobby had, some discount shop candles his mom had probably intended for the dinner table. "and the sacrifice?" that would be Sein's contribution. he had had a paper bag that had been moving around. as Walter leans forward, he sees what it is that was in it. and recognizes it. Mr.Garland had been complaining about the expense of some of the more exotic pets he had imported recently; they weren't selling as quickly as he'd hoped. The iguana seemed dazed. It was probably dehydrated. these wannabe Satanists probably knew nothing of how to care for an animal like this.  
Sein's next words confirm this."I stole it from the pet shop." he told Jasper proudly, "old man was so hungover he probably didn't even see who did it." Walter feels the rage rising within him as the boys started to chant.  
"from the point of darkness in the heart of Satan..let darkness stream forth into the world of men. let darkness destroy the earth..."

The ritual was pretentious and boring; bits of Goffy poetry intoned by Jasper, who was far from the smartest of people to begin with.the other two tried to take it serious for awhile, after awhile they stopped even pretending and began to drink the beer again. This was taking too long. they just wanted to kill the lizard and go home.

Bobby was the first to wander off. Jasper warned him "don't break the circle! anything could happen!" but Bobby was drunk and needed to pee; he flipped Jasper the bird and headed into the dark of the woods.  
He never even saw Walter coming.  
Again, Walter felt there and not-there; a thousand miles away watching himself as he all but rode the boy's back, the strangle cord thing he had found dug deep into the meat of the kid's neck. The boy bucked and struggled and finally, weakened by the lack of air, hit the floor; Walter kept tightening the cord for a good few minutes after he was already dead.  
Finally it was clear the boy was gone; Walter turned him over to look at the face. Eyes bulging, tongue protruded, it almost didn't look human, it looked as tho the boy were mocking him. Walter pulled his knife and the little geologist's hammer he had decided upon as a tool of choice for ribcage cracking... as tho he had all the time in the world he sewed the chest shut after. His fingers bloodied as they held the thread.

Sein was starting to worry. he had forgotten all about the ritual;  
"but we're almost ready to make the sacrifice.." Jasper had said.  
"fuck the sacrifice! Bobby hasn't come back. what if something...what if something happened to him, man?" Sein was pacing aggitatedly. he didn't iwant/i to believe in spooks or anything, but this was all kind of creepy...and even if it was nothing of the bump-in-the-night variety, who knew who all else might be out here? "I'm going to look for him..."

Sein did. and Walter was there for him.

Jasper kept his cool for a little while longer. he wanted to do this Satan thing, and now everyone else was gone. it was probably a joke, he figured. they would probably jump out and yell boo at him. Well, he'd scare them. T'hell with it. He was gonna cut this pet up anyway. and if the devil truly came well! who'd have the last laugh then?  
He picks the iguana up by the tail and begins chanting again. Something was coming thru the woods. He barely notices when the iguana lets its tail go, leaving him holding nothing but a tail. A tall wild eyed man burst thru the clearing, face and clothing matted with blood. He was holding something. two human hearts.  
"so. you want to see the devil, do you?" Jasper turned and ran.

the only thing that stopped Walter from pursuing him, really, was the sight of the lizard lying there. it's tail severed. From what he knew it weakened these poor things badly to lose a limb like that. They could grow back a new one, but it would take them awhile. Walter stops to gather the things together. His two new acquisitions. the injured lizard. and the empty beer bottles.

Well hey! he WAS homeless. bottles were worth money. 


End file.
